She winces as Eponine vomits, both in sympathy and frustration that she's been so unable to help the girl combat her flu here. Secretly, she wonders if Eponine has been sneaking bites of the wildlife here. It would make sense for someone as hungry and sick as she is to try to unthinkingly settle her stomach with poison. She reaches over and gives the bony hand a squeeze, nodding to Sigma.
"He won't hurt anyone here. He has his head about him." She holds a palm out. She wonders how much Eponine and Sigma know about R's humanity, about the rather intelligent boy seemingly crippled by the body he's in, and all those nerves that don't seem to line up right post-mortem. "He's a friend."
Maybe he'll apologize for having eaten them last time.
She looks at her motley crew and feels her guts sink. They're worse than a ragtag bunch; they're hopeless. Sigma is clearly still sick and only barely cooperative with her; Eponine, on her best days, is somewhat difficult to control, and R is a matter unto himself. For a moment she wonders if it would be better to try and win this Arena on her own, like she did so long ago.
But times have changed. There are more than twice the number of Tributes in this Arena.
no subject
"He won't hurt anyone here. He has his head about him." She holds a palm out. She wonders how much Eponine and Sigma know about R's humanity, about the rather intelligent boy seemingly crippled by the body he's in, and all those nerves that don't seem to line up right post-mortem. "He's a friend."
Maybe he'll apologize for having eaten them last time.
She looks at her motley crew and feels her guts sink. They're worse than a ragtag bunch; they're hopeless. Sigma is clearly still sick and only barely cooperative with her; Eponine, on her best days, is somewhat difficult to control, and R is a matter unto himself. For a moment she wonders if it would be better to try and win this Arena on her own, like she did so long ago.
But times have changed. There are more than twice the number of Tributes in this Arena.